


Once Upon A Time

by imperialPianist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1229290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialPianist/pseuds/imperialPianist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when an unforeseen rock is thrown into Cecil's plans to spend the rest of his life with sweet, wonderful, perfect Carlos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Time

Night Vale Story-Cecil's prov. ( YOU ARE CECIL )

 

You stand in the Night Vale rain, the old church barely shielding your head from the relentless pelting above. A ring sits heavily in the palm of your hand; you try not to think about it as Carlos, your perfect Carlos, sweet dear Carlos the scientist, says the words you never wanted to hear him say. He speaks to you in his perfect caramel voice, ripping what's left of your heart to shreds with cruel flawlessness.  
“ Goodbye. “  
You fall to the ground, knees protesting as you hit the unrelenting cement with a smack. The obsidian and diamond ring you had so carefully cut with your own hands fell from your lithe fingers, rolling a slight ways before tumbling beneath a crate. You hear the common sound of Night Vale sewer people munching on the new piece, the new trophy to their collection. Shaking ( not from the rain, but from the horrible feeling eating your insides, stinging your broken heart like the sharp needle of a city dentist), you look down, the acid rain of Night Vale eating away at your clothes and the ground.  
Time does not exist, nothing will ever exist again, not without your, Carl-....well... he isn't "your's" anymore is he... he was never truly your's. You hit the ground in anguish, looking desperately for some sort of release of emotion, even though knowing full well outbursts of sorrow were strictly forbidden. You hear the churning of Night Vale helicopters above your head, but you don't even bother to look at the color. He is gone. Your one one happiness, that was somehow bestowed upon you, taken, snatched away by that... that horrible... Steve Carlsberg.

\--And now... time for the weather. -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPQeXegWVKE --

Cecil paused, trying desperately to fight the all too salty tears that were stubbornly falling down his face. No, he was an honest reporter if nothing else. There was no way he could blame his ex, Steve Carlsberg, for Carlos's decision to… to leave him. Maybe, maybe it was his own fault, after all. He shut his eyes. Of course it was. How could he have been so blind? Steve had been right. How could anyone love someone like him? He was on all fours on the steps of the Night Vale church, (the church that had long ago been shut down and turned into a holding cell for the small pyramid, but the thought and significance was still there for some of the more "uncloaked" members of society), trying not to spill his guts on the old worn steps, for, that, along with being an infraction of law number 35,067 (No pre digested food on the closed down buildings), would be terribly unpleasant as well. And Cecil couldn't stand the thought of pain racking through his body anymore than it already was. Then again, he would deserve it wouldn't he, a monster like him. Why did he ever think he deserved perfect, wonderful, and pure as petrified gold Carlos.  
He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, wrenching over the steps, fighting away every possible emotion as he was trained to do in his "re-education" sessions as a reporter. Eventually his arms gave out and he flopped face first onto the cold cement blocks, to broken and numb on the outside, and to busy trying to keep his insides from committing suicide (after all, the council had decided that death was no longer free) to care. Soon he let himself drift into a fitful sleep, sleep being less painful than being awake. Even in his sleep tears ran from his eyes, and without his conscious mind working to battle against the raging emotions, he cried out into the dark night, and even the most inhuman citizens of Night Vale could hear the utter destruction in his once smooth, silky voice. It was not long after Cecil had fallen asleep that hooded figures emerged from the shadows of street lamps, contraband mail boxes, and toast, all walking toward the pained, unconscious reporter.

**Author's Note:**

> hey dear readers! i'm sorry about the sad story, i honestly love Radioactivity (Cecil and Carlos ).. Anyway, i write stories a lot and i would love ideas or favorite pairings, please feel free to suggest anything from ships you wanna read, or perspectives you wanna see stuff in! There are probably some spelling and grammar mistakes in this, you can point them out but i probably wont get around to change them x( . if there are enough reviews ill write a second chapter, but for now this is all of this one that i'll be posting. Please leave reviews and notes, and check out my other stories which will be posted soon!


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